Without The Dark (we'd never see the stars)
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Andromeda works in a strip club, trying to make enough to live on. Rabastan is there on a business meeting and he finds himself entranced by a dark haired beauty.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise**

 **Challenge list at the bottom.**

* * *

 **Without The Dark**

 **(we'd never see the stars)**

* * *

She sprayed herself with perfume, the smell cloying and sickly. She was thankful for that though, had picked it for it's overpowering scent, because it gave her something to concentrate on. Staring in the mirror at the scraps of material that barely covered her most private areas, she felt a familiar wave of disgust overcome her.

She hated herself for being reduced to this.

Dancing for men for money, a far cry from the future she'd imagined when she was a child. If only her family had understood that as much as she was proud of being a Black, she didn't want to marry for money or status. If only they'd understood that she couldn't bring herself to prostitute herself for the family name.

All the good that that had done her in the end.

The loss of her family had come with the loss of her comfort, and she'd struggled to find work when she'd found herself disowned and on the streets with nothing.

She hadn't been prepared for homelessness at all.

So, when she found out from one of the working girls in the area that the strip club was hiring, she'd pushed aside her inherent disapproval of such a thing and auditioned. She'd always loved to dance, and that worked well in her favour as the owner leered all over her.

She gave herself a final once over, pulling her long dark hair over her shoulders to give herself the illusion of a bit more modesty, and left the dressing room.

The bar was busy, as it always was on a Saturday night. She hopped up to her assigned post and, letting the music overtake her, she began to dance, ignoring the men watching, drooling, over her.

Unfortunately, as the night wore on, Andromeda couldn't keep to the safety of her podium. She had to entertain the men, and that meant getting closer, swapping her podium for the bar floor, where the men awaited her eagerly for private lap dances.

* * *

Rabastan watched the dark haired beauty move to the music. It was sensual in a way that none of the others managed. It was effortless, completely unforced. She wasn't dancing for other people, those movements were for herself and for the music.

He chanced a glance at Peter Pettigrew, barely holding back his disgust as the man practically drooled over any female who so much as walked past their little table.

Rabastan hadn't expected to wind up in a seedy strip club when he'd woken up that morning, though, he should have probably known. Pettigrew was trying every trick in the book to get Rabastan to invest in his failing business, and this one was an old favourite.

Not to mention that the man truly was a despicable letch.

Pettigrew chose that moment to remember that he was supposed to be working, and turned his attention from the blonde he'd been eyeing back to Rabastan.

"Well, Mr Lestrade, do we have a deal?"

Rabastan very nearly snorted. No, they emphatically did not have a deal. Not that he intended to tell Pettigrew that just yet. Rabastan was due some entertainment, after all, and he'd been dealing with the creep for hours. He rationalised that he might as well take some enjoyment in telling Pettigrew he had a snowball's chance in hell of an investment.

"Not quite," he replied, picking up his glass and taking a sip of the whiskey he'd been brought. Cheap and harsh, he quickly returned the glass to the table. "You still haven't provided me with any incentive to invest. After all, your business is failing. You want my money, my contacts, my name; what is it that I get out of the deal?"

"Money, of course," Pettigrew replied. "With your backing, my business will grow massively, I have no doubt."

Rabastan stroked his face thoughtfully. "I have money, Mr Pettigrew. More than I know what to do with. Try again."

Leaving the gaping man to his thoughts, Rabastan turned back to the woman he'd been watching on the podium, only to find she'd been replaced by a buxom blonde that held little attraction to him. He searched the bar with his eyes, trying to find the woman.

FInally he found her, winding her way through tables, subtly dodging the hands that reached out to touch her. The bar had a no touching rule, but the drunken louts didn't seem to care about that. Rabastan felt unreasonably angry at the men trying to touch the woman.

As she neared the table, Pettigrew seemed to realise who Rabastan was watching, and he called the woman over with an unrefined "OI!" and a wave of his hand. Rabastan's fist's clenched.

"A lapdance, for my friend here," Pettigrew said, as soon as the woman was in hearing distance. Rabastan looked into the woman's eyes and found himself enchanted immediately.

There was pain in them, and disgust, but there was also a beauty to them that he couldn't look away from. He shook his head at Pettigrew, reaching out a cautious hand to the woman's arm when she turned to leave.

"Sit, please," he murmured. He wanted to talk to her, to find out why she was doing this job when she so clearly hated it.

"Take my seat," Peter said, getting up. "I'm just going to take a waz, Mr Lestrade. I'll be back shortly and we can conclude our business."

Rabastan blinked as Pettigrew walked away. Conclude? The man was clearly delusional.

"Sit, please," he repeated, when the woman looked as though she was about to walk away. She stared at him for a moment, defiance in her eyes, before she acquiesced to his request.

"What can I do for you, Sir?" she asked, her hands coming together on her knees.

Rabastan's heart went out to her.

"I was watching you dance earlier," he admitted. "You looked beautiful."

"Thank you, sir."

"Rabastan," he corrected lightly. "Please. I… don't mean to be rude, Miss, but why are you here. You don't belong somewhere so…"

"So disgusting?" she asked, the defiance back in her eyes. "Money, sir. Is it not why any of us are here?"

"How much for you to come home with me?" he asked, desperation to not leave her here making him speak without thinking. He realised his mistake too late, the fire in her eyes deepening.

"I don't go home with customers," she snapped, standing up.

"£1500?" he offered.

* * *

Andromeda paused mid step. £1500 was a lot of money. She could live on that for two months, if she stretched it out and took it easy. She turned back to the handsome man, raising her eyebrow.

"For the whole night?" she asked.

He nodded. "Until 8am."

She thought she could probably haggle him up more, but there was something about his earnest features that stopped her. "Okay. I have to finish my shift though, sir. Mr Rowle wouldn't be happy if I left early."

The man, Rabastan he'd called himself, nodded eagerly. "I'll await you outside -"

She was amused when he cut himself off, realising he didn't know her name.

"Andromeda," she offered, before immediately cursing herself for giving him her real name. Had the months she'd worked here taught her nothing?

He stared at her for a moment, and she realised he thought she was lying anyway, her name unusual enough that such an assumption was not unreasonable.

"Like the constellation?"

She nodded. "Yes. I should…" She gestured to the bar. "I have to dance again soon."

"I'll await you outside, Andromeda," he repeated.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away.

* * *

"She was gorgeous," Pettigrew commented when he returned to the table. "Why on earth did you turn down a dance?"

"We're here to do business," Rabastan snapped. "And I'm afraid, Mr Pettigrew, that our business is concluded."

"But… you haven't signed," the shorter man spluttered, pulling the contracts he'd drawn up from his briefcase.

Rabastan sneered. "Nor do I intend to. I will not do business with you, Mr Pettigrew, because I've had my people do some digging into you. It would appear that you are a traitor to men around the country, leaving debts and scarpering away like a little rat. You're actually quite the legend, though of course it's for the wrong reasons. You will not make a fool of me, as you did them."

"How did you get information like that?" Pettigrew asked, paling. Rabastan smirked.

"I have my ways. I do hope that flagging your name on certain systems hasn't put you in danger, Mr Pettigrew. That wasn't my intention at all, you understand. I just prefer to know exactly who I'm working with."

"You're going to get me killed," Pettigrew whispered, eyes darting around the room.

Rabastan shrugged, leaning back in his seat leisurely. "I believe in consequences, Mr Pettigrew. It's nothing to do with me if yours have caught up with you. You can't hide forever."

"Mr Lestrange, you have to protect me, I -"

"Time fades, Pettigrew. Betrayal, and the thirst for revenge, doesn't." Rabastan stood up. "Though I do, of course, wish you all the luck in the world."

Rabastan walked purposefully out of the bar. It was nearing closing time anyway, and he wanted some air.

* * *

Andromeda dressed herself back in her jeans. She wasn't convinced that Rabastan would be awaiting her, and regardless of that, it was freezing cold and she certainly wasn't leaving the bar in her 'costume'.

Wrapping her coat and scarf around her thin frame, she left the bar. She was surprised to find Rabastan awaiting her, leaning against an expensive car. She walked over to him slowly.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his head tilting to the side slightly.

She nodded. She didn't need him to care, she just needed the money. He opened the car door for her and she slid in, appreciating the smell of the leather seats. He climbed into the driver's seat and, after he put his own seat belt on and made sure she was wearing hers, he set off.

She kept her eyes on the route he was taking. She didn't feel unsafe, but she was fully aware that she didn't know this man. She knew the dangers of strangers, she just couldn't afford to listen to them.

They arrived at a hotel she recognised and she relaxed a little.

He led her through the quiet lobby and into the lift, and she was somewhat unsurprised when he pressed the button for the top floor. He led her into a beautiful suite.

"Can I take your coat?" he offered, hanging it up when she handed it to him. "Would you like a drink?" he asked then, nodding his head to the mini bar in the corner of the room.

"Water, please," she replied. She was impressed despite herself when he handed her a sealed bottle. At least she wouldn't have to pretend to drink now.

He sat down on the sofa, patting the cushion beside him. She sat down, turning her body slightly to face him.

"What would you like?" she asked. The sooner they began, the sooner she could understand why he'd offered her such a substantial amount.

Rabastan blinked, looking a little like a deer caught in headlights. "Can we just… talk?"

"Talk?" she asked blankly. "Erm…"

"I'm sorry," he replied, sitting forward a little. "This is… I didn't bring you here to have sex. I mean, you're gorgeous, completely stunning, but there was just something about you that I didn't… You enchanted me, Andromeda. The way you danced, the fire in your eyes."

She watched him stumbling over his words and felt herself melt a little.

"I just… didn't want to walk away without getting to know you," he finished, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Andromeda fiddled with the edge of her t-shirt.

"I'm not sure what to say," she admitted after a moment of awkward silence.

"What's your favourite time of day?" he asked, chuckling when she looked at him incredulously. "We have to start somewhere," he reasoned with a shrug.

"I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars," she replied after a moment. "You?"

And so a barrage of random questions began. Andromeda was soon laughing as she answered questions such as "bath or shower?" and "Chocolate or Crisp?"

"How did you end up at that strip club?"

The question came out of nowhere, and Andromeda sobered immediately. "I… I…"

"You don't have to answer," Rabastan assured her, reaching a hand out to caress her fingers cautiously. "I just… want to understand. How can someone as special as you work somewhere like that?"

"I was disowned," she whispered. "By my family. I was a Black."

She saw the recognition in his eyes and sighed. "They wanted me to marry a Malfoy; the joining of two powerful families was most desired, my mother said. When I refused, my father disowned me and the contract was shifted down to my little sister. I was left on the streets with nothing and nowhere… and then I was told that the bar was hiring. Money is money, and is necessary to survival."

He nodded slowly, and she could see pain in his eyes as he listened to her story. He stood, tugging her to her feet. She followed him to the bedroom, and her heart sank when she realised what must be happening.

He'd decided she wasn't the something special he thought she was and figured he might as well get his money's worth from her.

They didn't exchange words as they stripped down to their underwear, and Rabastan climbed into bed first, holding the covers up for her. When she settled beside him, her body stiff and unyielding, she expected him to start pawing and mauling her immediately.

Instead, he gently rolled her onto her side away from him, before pulling her back into the middle of the bed, spooning her from behind. He wrapped his arm securely around her waist and pressed the gentlest of kisses against her bare shoulder.

"Sleep, Andromeda," he whispered. "Stay with me, and sleep."

"Rabastan -"

"Sleep. In the morning, we'll talk, but for now, I just want to lie here with you in my arms and thank all the gods for placing you in my path. Sleep."

She could do little else but follow his instructions, and within moments she'd relaxed back into his embrace as the sandman stole her away into dreams of comfort and protecting, and kind brown eyes.

* * *

Andromeda appeared at his side,looking beautiful in an off the shoulder black dress and he wrapped his arm around her automatically, holding her close to him.

"She was flirting with you," she whispered, and when he looked, he could see the amusement on her face. "Apparently the women here haven't had the memo that you're taken."

He shook his head. "We can't have that, can we?"

"Indeed not," she replied. "How can we fix it?"

He leaned forward, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "Since I can't take you on the banquet table, this will have to suffice," he murmured against her lips.

Andromeda's laugh echoed around the ballroom.

Later that evening, when people began departing and Rabastan had a quick word with one of his work partners, Andromeda stood outside awaiting him, looking up at the stars.

"Are you ready to go home, Sweetheart?" he asked, joining him.

"Home sounds good," she replied, more meaning in her words than a reference to their long day. She leant into him and let him lead her to _their_ car. Where he would drive them to _their_ home.

She couldn't believe how far they'd come in the six months since he'd asked her home with him for money. She couldn't believe how far _she'd_ come. Who'd have thought that a terrible job in a seedy strip club could have given her such a happy ending.

* * *

 **Written for;**

 **HPFC - Ways To Say** \- 8. "Take my seat."

 **Library Lovers** \- Twilight - Loss / Legend / "I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars."

 **Scavenger Hunt** \- 7. An AU outside the wizarding world. (Muggle)

 **Love in Motion** \- RabastanAndromeda

 **Serpent Week** \- 36. Asian Keelback - Rabastan Lestrade.

 **Writing club**

 **Character Appreciation** \- 15. Family.

 **Lyric Alley** \- 26. Time Fades.

 **Disney** \- Rags To Riches - Rags To Riches!AU

 **Book Club** \- Dayna Jergens - Flirting / Glass / Defiance

 **Showtime** \- 12. Thank Goodness - Phrase, Happy Ending.

 **Buttons** \- Object, Perfume / Dialogue, "You can't hide forever." / Word, Bath

 **Word count** \- 2664


End file.
